Page 59 of The Millionaire's Mechanic

She wasn’t wearing a dress, but a silky-looking green romper with three-quarter sleeves. It was paired with flat beaded sandals that highlighted how small her cute little feet were.

The romper wasn’t tight, but it skimmed her curves faithfully enough to make his member stiffen. Vowing to buy her at least two green dresses in the same shade, he gritted his teeth and counted to ten. Fortunately, the timely arrival of her father was enough to kill his arousal.

Ephraim greeted him with reserved politeness. Rainer had the distinct impression the man wanted to like him, but felt he had to give him a hard time on principle.

Since he was the reason Georgia had been hurt and had been forced to go into hiding, Rainer decided the man was entitled to his opinion. As long as Ephraim didn’t talk Georgia out of moving in with him—and he’d kept quiet on this matter so far—then he could afford to give her father time to make up his mind.

Plus, he could tell Ephraim was trying not to show how impressed he was with the apartment. Which was why he waited until he and Georgia were nicely lubricated with a little wine to present them with the penthouse’s showstopper—the upstairs dining room.

Occupying half of the second story, the sumptuous room held a sixteen-seat mahogany table under a row of three tasteful crystal chandeliers. One-third of the semicircular wall was made of glass panels, with a set of double doors. Beyond was a balcony with the same view as the bedroom—the sapphire blue Pacific.

Georgia turned to him, laughter in her voice. “Does it revolve, too?”

“Ha, ha,” he said, motioning her to refill her glass of wine. Once they were all topped up, they went outside on the balcony, letting him point out highlights of downtown San Diego and the bay beyond.

Behind him, one of Massoud’s assistants materialized and began to unload the dumbwaiter of the dinner trays sent up from the kitchen.

“You have to admit it looks like one of those revolving rooftop bars,” Georgia teased after taking a sip. “Not that I’m complaining. This view is perfect as any of those.”

“It’s why I chose this place,” he admitted. “This circular top floor is divided among the penthouse suites. The previous owner had his bedroom in the neighboring room, but I turned it into an office instead. But this space has always been a dining room.”

Georgia turned to watch the kitchen staff put out the meal. She whistled. “I was starting to think they were real house elves—all your domestic staff are so low-key.”

“My fault,” he said softly, catching her eye. “When I moved in, I was in a place where protecting my privacy was the most important thing to me. All the new staff was selected for their discretion and ability to operate independently without needing me to direct them.”

Ephraim pursed his lips in disapproval, but Georgia moved closer, her hand curling around his upper arm.

“None of the staff is live-in,” Rainer elaborated. “Although, Massoud lives on the first floor, for easy access. I text him when I’m going to have guests and he comes in to prepare the meals, stock the fridge, etcetera. The cleaning staff is a team that services all the penthouses and the three floors below them.”

“Dad, you have maids now?” Georgia asked, brightening.

“Yes, a nice lady named Magdalena came by to clean the bathroom and straighten up,” Ephraim said, heightened color brandishing his cheeks. “I didn’t know to expect her the first time, and she saw me in my underwear.”

Georgia giggled before clapping a hand on her mouth. “Sorry, Pops.”

When Ephraim sighed and turned away, she mouthed ‘tighty-whiteys’ at him. Choking back a laugh, Rainer directed them to the table, where Ephraim got his revenge.

“So, Rainer, tell us about your family.”

It was a good thing he’d already told Georgia the worst bits during their late-night pillow talk.

“Well, my dad was a lot older than my mother,” he began, trying to make a long story short. “He was in his mid-sixties when I was born—she was twenty-six.”

“Oh,” Ephraim said, startled.

Rainer lifted a shoulder. “His family still refers to her as the ‘little gold digger that could’ or worse.”

Georgia winced, but Rainer was used to telling his story to his friends. “After he passed, I pretty much cut ties with them. It wasn’t difficult. Most are in Europe.”

Ephraim nodded awkwardly, clearly sorry he’d asked.

“As for Mom, she’s on husband number four now,” Rainer said with a resigned wave. “I have a half-sister somewhere, but after my mom divorced her father, the ex got custody—by mutual agreement—and they don’t stay in touch. I met her once or twice, but they don’t want a relationship with me either, or at least the dad doesn’t. The end of the marriage was acrimonious, to put it mildly.”

There was a long silence. “I’m sorry,” Georgia said. “Maybe when she’s older, she’ll get in touch on her own.”

Rainer shrugged. “She knows I’m open to contact, but she has her own life and I have mine. But I did okay familywise. My dad didn’t die until I finished college, and he was all there until the end,” he said, tapping his temple. “I consider myself lucky. He was pretty sharp and a decent-enough dad, given the circumstances.”

They didn’t roughhouse or play catch like other fathers and sons did, but his dad had taught him other things—how to appreciate art and music. He’d also taken great pleasure introducing Rainer to gourmet foods from around the world.

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